


Sleepy Away Your Sick Day

by Chancy_Lurking



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Aliens, Bruce and Phil are nurses, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Other pairings minor, Prompt Fic, Science Boyfriends, Sickfic, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-28
Updated: 2012-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 02:38:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/498528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chancy_Lurking/pseuds/Chancy_Lurking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers are locked up in Stark Towers with a nasty case of an alien virus. Bruce (thanks to the Hulk) and Phil are the only two well enough to look after the others... And Tony's nightmares are flaring up again.<br/>Oh, joy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepy Away Your Sick Day

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd.   
> Based an indeterminate amount of time in the future after an attack by some nondescript creatures. Also, Coulson is alive because he’s Coulson and he just is. It’s supposed to be Stanner, but it’s sort of a group fic, too. Other ships if you squint.  
> Prompt: Bruce taking care of a sick/nightmare plagued Tony.  
> Rating: T (for Tony’s panicked potty mouth only, so maybe PG?)  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Marvel/the Avengers. #Fanwork

If there was ever a moment that Bruce was more thankful to have the Other Guy – minus the suicide attempt that would have kept him from reaching this point in his life – it was in this moment.

Sure, maybe his head was aching a little, but it wasn’t a brain splitting, considering-smacking-myself-with-a-brick migraine like Clint was having. Yes, his legs were a bit unsteady but he could walk without worrying about vomiting or his knees buckling; the concern that had kept Natasha pressed into Clint’s side all day, not even thinking about leaving the bed. And ok, his nose was a tad runny, but Steve and Thor’s coughs sounded painful… and at points, alarmingly loud…

And Tony was a _whole_ different issue…

To sum it up, Bruce had the Other Guy to thank for coughing up most of whatever alien microbe it was that had the other Avenger’s confined to their bedrooms in Stark Towers. He wasn’t feeling 100%, but he was well enough that he and Coulson could keep the Avenger’s from imploding in a moping pile of snotty tissues.

The scientist knocked lightly on the door with a hawk carved into it, carefully balancing a tray of medicine on his other arm, “Natasha? Clint? Hey, I have some flu medicine, if you-…” He didn’t quite understand what the archer mumbled at him, but it sounded suspiciously like he should be worried about arrows winding up somewhere unpleasant.

He jumped slightly when Coulson took the tray from him, “I’ll handle it, Dr. Banner,” He said quickly, shoving a pack of Pop tarts into his hand, “Steve is already sleeping. Take these to Thor and deal with Tony, would you?”

Bruce cocked a slightly amused eyebrow, “What’d he do?”

Coulson gave him a look, “I’m just picking my poison, Dr. Banner.” He pushed him aside and opened the door, leaning out of the way as an array of knives flew past them, imbedding in the wall, “Would you like it back?”

“No, no, I’m good.” Bruce said, though he was already halfway down the hall and Coulson was already in the assassins’ nest.

He walked into the main area where Thor had situated himself under a mound of blankets, only the arm holding the remote sticking out. “Thor?” He asked softly, crouching by the sofa, “You awake?”

The heap shifted slightly, “I am, Dr. Banner.” The demigod rumbled, adjusting to look up at Bruce with one eye, groggily, “Though I cannot say I wish to be…”

“I wasn’t…” Steve’s muffled voice came from somewhere near Thor’s shoulder blades, and the man shifted to get comfortable.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce smiled sympathetically, “Get some rest.” He turned to the table, “I see you took the medicine already…I know it’s only helped a marginally so far, but,” Steve gave a snort, “Keep taking it.” He turned to put the pack of Pop tarts Coulson gave him on the table, “There’re some Pop tarts here if your stomach calms-…” 

He paused when a large hand suddenly came up towards him. He smirked, giving him the pack, holding back a laugh as it slowly disappeared under the quilts. “Tell JARVIS to call me if you need something…”

Bruce walked away at the dual mumbled thanks, crossing to take the elevator to Tony’s suite. When he stepped into the semi-darkness of the room, he frowned to see Tony clutching the nightstand, presumably trying to work his way over to the desk, “Tony…” The man jumped at the sound of his name, Bruce’s quick thinking the only thing keeping him from falling and smacking his head on the desk.

“Sneaking around for a reason, Banner?” He grumbled hoarsely as he was helped back to the bed.

Bruce smiled easily, “I could ask you the same thing…”

Tony rolled his eyes, “Look, there’s only one more formula I need to write down before the prototype for the new-…”

“Suit is done. And you’ve been working on it since before the attack, and you talked about it on the way to the attack and all threw the attack, and so much so that I’m sure Steve could write it down for you,” Bruce cut him off, handing him the medication. He crossed his arms, “Get some rest. You aren’t going to forget it.”

Tony pretended (not really) to gag on the liquid, taking a moment to cough up a lung. “I’ll rest when I finish.” He rasped, rubbing at his throat, “I just need a few minutes…”

Bruce scoffed, “A few minutes like the Other Guy only has a few anger issues.” He pushed Tony onto the bed, pulling the covers up around his shoulders. He didn’t kiss him as he might’ve (a rule Coulson set up, just to be safe) but indulges in ruffling his hair. “I’ll finish it, ok? Go to sleep.”

Tony half glared at him, clearly exhausted but only fighting it for a moment. “Yes, mama Bruce.” He mocked, turning his back to the other scientist, hunching under the duvet.

Bruce was hardly seated at the desk before he could hear Tony snoring softly.

~~~~~

_Tony’s chest hurts. Shit, his chest is hurting. Nothing good ever happens when his chest hurts…_

_Is he having a heart attack again? What the hell is going? Are his hands shaking? His whole **body** is shaking, what-? Oh, shit, no…_

_He can’t breathe. Oh shit, shit, shit, he can’t breathe._

_He can’t breathe and his throat hurts? Had he been screaming?_

_Confusion and fear are fighting for dominance in his muddled mind… Why can’t he think? He’d been drugged, too??_

_He can feel his panic was rising… But then it turns to cold dread he sees them._

_The hands coming down at him with scalpels and tongs, faces obscured by bloodied surgical masks. They aren’t telling him to remain calm, they are saying it was over. They are saying he brought it on himself and no one is going to save him…_

_They’re going to take his heart. They’re going to take it and he’s going to die and… No._

_No, no, no. Not now. It can’t happen now. He might not have cared about dying at one point, but he can’t now._

_Not when his life is finally looking up. Not when he’s an Avenger. Not when he’s got a team, a familyat home worrying about him. Not when he’s finally got Bruce and…_

_Just no._

_He’s fucking Iron Man._

_Damned if he’s going down without a – fright fueled, drug addled, probably going to end badly, but who asked you anyway? - fight._

_Bring it on, mother-_

~~~~~

Bruce almost saw green when Tony’s shout jolted him awake, sending him plummeting from the rolling chair at the desk to the floor. The Hulk growled protectively in his chest as he fought to his feet, “Tony!”

It appeared the man didn’t even here him continuing to scream and swing… A Billy stick? Swing a Billy stick at absolutely nothing.

Bruce pushed the Hulk down, “Tony, calm down!” He rushed forward, easily dodging and snatching the weapon from Tony’s illness-weakened hand. He threw it to the ground, “Everything is ok! You just had a bad dream-.” He just hardly caught Tony’s fist before it collided with his nose, hard enough to surely wake up the Hulk. The growl that came next was entirely Bruce; frustrated he caught Tony’s other wrist before climbing up to pinion his struggling body to the bed. “Tony, it’s Bruce, calm down, I-…ANTHONY!”

The use of his real named had the effect of a slap to the face and Tony instantly stopped thrashing, staring up in confusion, “Bruce-?”

The door slammed open causing both men to jump and turn to see Coulson staring back at them with a blank expression holding a (very threatening looking) box of crackers.

There was a bewildered paused before Bruce tried to explain, but Coulson raised a hand, “Dr. Banner, don’t ask me for any help if you get sick. Not once. I warned you.” He stated before turning and closing the door.

Bruce sighed, bowing his head with a faint blush creeping across his cheek. The Hulk was grumbling and he was trying his best to calm him and by the looks of the blood draining from Tony’s already pale face, he could tell. 

After a tense moment of fighting his own pulse down and feeling Tony’s slow to normal under his palms he finally met his gaze.

Tony cocked an eyebrow at him and wiggled his wrists as some color returned to his face, “I take it you weren’t coming onto me?”

Bruce frowned, getting off of him, “Are you o-?”

“Fine,” Tony smirked, pushing up onto his elbows, “But jeez, Bruce, what did you put in that Robitussin? Warn me when you give me hallucinogens…”

Bruce’s frown deepened, “Your hands are shaking.” He said, noticing the slight tremor as they sat atop the arc reactor. He could easily put together what that meant…

“I have an alien virus, Bruce. Several parts of me are shaking.” Tony jested, but clenched his jaw swallowing over a wave of nausea when Bruce just set him with a level stare, “Let’s not do this. It was a flu induced nightmare. Wasn’t’ real.”

“Does saying that actually make you feel any better?” Bruce asked, eyeing Tony uncertainly, “Because it looks like it just stressed you out.”

Tony pursed his lips, the tension in his brow growing tighter, “I don’t need a shoulder to cry on.”

He was a bit surprised when Bruce yanked up the covers, “Fine.” He bit, sliding into the sheets and pulling Tony flush against his chest, “Don’t cry. Just go to sleep.”

Tony pushed against him momentarily, “Bruce…”

“Tony…” Bruce said, though it sounding like an almost Hulkish warning. His voice lowered, “You have the greatest security system in the city and you share a home with ‘the Earth’s mightiest heroes’.” He tucked his chin over Tony’s head, pulling the blankets up around them, “And if that isn’t enough you’re in bed with – and not getting rid of – the Hulk. No one is going to do anything to you.”

Bruce was content with no response; hadn’t really expected one. The way Tony relaxed into his arms, even pressing his slightly fevered forehead into his neck, was enough. He sighed contentedly and let his eyes slip closed.

However, all good things come to an end (in one way or another) and he could feel the softness of the moment about to break as Tony smirked against his collar bone, “I’ve got the Hulk in my be- Ow!”

“Shut up and go to sleep.”


End file.
